Sunday, September 22, 2002
Hosea
The man appears again. He is tall, dark haired, pale skinned, with a mustache and goatee. She had visions of him and she wonders why she's seen him again and again. Suddenly, it seems, he's walked out of the shadows and now is approaching her. Who are you? she thinks.
"Hi," he says. "Do you remember me?"
Her brow furrows in thought. "Do I know you?"
His face registers amazement. "You don't know who I am?"
"No...."
He pulls a blue and white bandana from his pocket and puts it on. "You should know now..." he prompts, but before he finishes his sentence, she exlaims, "Hosea!"
He just smiles. "Yeah."
"Is it really you? Oh my god, I haven't seen you in forever. Not since we were kids. Wow. I can't believe it. I can't believe that I didn't know it was you. You've changed a lot. Wow."
"You've changed a bit yourself. You're not as spunky as you once were."
This stings. "Well, I..."
"No excuses." He pulls a cigarette from a case, a Zippo lighter from his pocket, and lights his cigarette. "I came here because you need me. You've been looking for me and couldn't find me. Lucky for you, I ran into your friend James at a party. He was talking about his lack of letters from a friend that he was worried about. Turns out that friend of his was you. And he told me all about what you had written until your letters stopped."
"My purse with the book was stolen," she replied. "And I..."
"No," he said. "Don't try that one. You know that it didn't matter whether you had the book or not. You just stopped writing. You gave up. I know you well enough to know that's what you did. That wasn't fair to him. Or to Cisily. You gave up and stopped writing. Like what? That he didn't care anymore? That you didn't care anymore? What's your problem? You used to be so cool, you used to have your wisdom and your strength. What happed to them? When did you decide to become a doormat?"
A tear slipped out of her eye. "I...I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't take it. All of this hate that surrounds me. All of this despondancy, this depression, this silliness...I couldn't take it anymore. I was never left alone. All I wanted was to be me but they just wouldn't let it happen. And for what? For a few hours of coffee? Goddammit, I hate them. All of them. And I hate myself. I hate myself so much that I'd rather be dead and spend my life with the ghosts. I don't want to live among the living any more...they're too stupid, too proud, and I hate them."
"So you broke up with your fiancee over that?" He let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Really, my dear, I think you let yourself be sucked in by normal people. You're not normal; you're the most exceptional person that is here and now. Forget their version of humanity. Remeber who you are and where you came from." He paused a moment. "Remember how we'd always dance like dorks? It was silly but we knew it was silly. We never tried to impress anyone. We just did it because we wanted to be silly dorks. Remember when everyone teased you and you'd come home crying? I'd dance like a dork until you felt better and joined in. If they were going to give you a label, we were going to ignore it. Create your own labels. That's what you did before."
"I can't," she shot back. "I'm older now. I just can't do that anymore. That's back when I was young."
"You were wise when you were young. You need to recapture it and mold it into adulthood. You can do it...you almost did."
"I know, I know," she said, sniffling. "I just don't know how I'm going to do it."
He smiled. "Oh, you know how, you just have to figure it out for yourself. It'll get easier as you go along. Trust me. I've been through this before. And if I know you well, you're going to do something spectacluar with it." He put out his cigarette. "And now I must go. I only came to visit and I've got to get back home because there'll be mountains of work on my desk."
"Please don't go," she said. "Please stay awhile longer."
"I can't," he replied. "But if it helps, I may come back to visit every now and again. I really do have to go now. My flight leaves soon."
She nods. "Yes, of course. But...but don't stay away too long. I miss you greatly."
He smiles. "Okay, but only if you remember to write to James."
She smiles back. "Yeah, I will." She pauses as he turns to leave. "Oh, and Hosea?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. Thank you very much. I appreciate it."
They say their goodbyes, and although she is sad that her good friend is leaving, she feels better than she has in months. His presence comforted her lonely soul. And ever since then, the visions have not appeared. She no longer closes her eyes to see the mysterious dark-haired man who was actually her friend Hosea.
Wherever you are, Hosea, she thinks as she pulls out a fresh peice of paper to start a letter, I hope you're happy. I really do.
The man appears again. He is tall, dark haired, pale skinned, with a mustache and goatee. She had visions of him and she wonders why she's seen him again and again. Suddenly, it seems, he's walked out of the shadows and now is approaching her. Who are you? she thinks.
"Hi," he says. "Do you remember me?"
Her brow furrows in thought. "Do I know you?"
His face registers amazement. "You don't know who I am?"
"No...."
He pulls a blue and white bandana from his pocket and puts it on. "You should know now..." he prompts, but before he finishes his sentence, she exlaims, "Hosea!"
He just smiles. "Yeah."
"Is it really you? Oh my god, I haven't seen you in forever. Not since we were kids. Wow. I can't believe it. I can't believe that I didn't know it was you. You've changed a lot. Wow."
"You've changed a bit yourself. You're not as spunky as you once were."
This stings. "Well, I..."
"No excuses." He pulls a cigarette from a case, a Zippo lighter from his pocket, and lights his cigarette. "I came here because you need me. You've been looking for me and couldn't find me. Lucky for you, I ran into your friend James at a party. He was talking about his lack of letters from a friend that he was worried about. Turns out that friend of his was you. And he told me all about what you had written until your letters stopped."
"My purse with the book was stolen," she replied. "And I..."
"No," he said. "Don't try that one. You know that it didn't matter whether you had the book or not. You just stopped writing. You gave up. I know you well enough to know that's what you did. That wasn't fair to him. Or to Cisily. You gave up and stopped writing. Like what? That he didn't care anymore? That you didn't care anymore? What's your problem? You used to be so cool, you used to have your wisdom and your strength. What happed to them? When did you decide to become a doormat?"
A tear slipped out of her eye. "I...I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't take it. All of this hate that surrounds me. All of this despondancy, this depression, this silliness...I couldn't take it anymore. I was never left alone. All I wanted was to be me but they just wouldn't let it happen. And for what? For a few hours of coffee? Goddammit, I hate them. All of them. And I hate myself. I hate myself so much that I'd rather be dead and spend my life with the ghosts. I don't want to live among the living any more...they're too stupid, too proud, and I hate them."
"So you broke up with your fiancee over that?" He let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Really, my dear, I think you let yourself be sucked in by normal people. You're not normal; you're the most exceptional person that is here and now. Forget their version of humanity. Remeber who you are and where you came from." He paused a moment. "Remember how we'd always dance like dorks? It was silly but we knew it was silly. We never tried to impress anyone. We just did it because we wanted to be silly dorks. Remember when everyone teased you and you'd come home crying? I'd dance like a dork until you felt better and joined in. If they were going to give you a label, we were going to ignore it. Create your own labels. That's what you did before."
"I can't," she shot back. "I'm older now. I just can't do that anymore. That's back when I was young."
"You were wise when you were young. You need to recapture it and mold it into adulthood. You can do it...you almost did."
"I know, I know," she said, sniffling. "I just don't know how I'm going to do it."
He smiled. "Oh, you know how, you just have to figure it out for yourself. It'll get easier as you go along. Trust me. I've been through this before. And if I know you well, you're going to do something spectacluar with it." He put out his cigarette. "And now I must go. I only came to visit and I've got to get back home because there'll be mountains of work on my desk."
"Please don't go," she said. "Please stay awhile longer."
"I can't," he replied. "But if it helps, I may come back to visit every now and again. I really do have to go now. My flight leaves soon."
She nods. "Yes, of course. But...but don't stay away too long. I miss you greatly."
He smiles. "Okay, but only if you remember to write to James."
She smiles back. "Yeah, I will." She pauses as he turns to leave. "Oh, and Hosea?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. Thank you very much. I appreciate it."
They say their goodbyes, and although she is sad that her good friend is leaving, she feels better than she has in months. His presence comforted her lonely soul. And ever since then, the visions have not appeared. She no longer closes her eyes to see the mysterious dark-haired man who was actually her friend Hosea.
Wherever you are, Hosea, she thinks as she pulls out a fresh peice of paper to start a letter, I hope you're happy. I really do.
# posted by Crazy Girl @ 15:31 
